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Clashing Calamities
You Shouldn't Play with Dead Things When the last sun-rays of the day kiss the heathland, that's what the town drunks come out to play. On the Summer Island of , nighttime was a blessing. Like a deep breath of air after nearly drowning at sea, the night granted the people port city a second wind. Shops and taverns were opened till early the crack of dawns as merchants made most of their money throughout the night festivities. As other children who looked his age were at home enjoying the freshly cooked dinner from their mother, a blonde haired boy wandered throughout the town with a box. "Moisty Tavern...Moisty Tavern...Moisty Tavern" he repeated under his breath, in search of the merchant bar. After swiveling his head side to side as he attempted to discern each store's name, he eventually found the place. "Found ya!" he chanted joyously, as he walked in. The tavern was filled with dozens of people. Hookers trying to make ends meet through many tourists, the classic drunks already on their fifth drinks, the arrogant meatheads always looking to pick a fight, the restaurant had them all. Navigating through the crowd, the blonde-haired teen eventually made his way to the bar. "Three bottles of Vodka, Four Bottles of Rum, One bottle of tequila, Eight bottles of your best Sake, and as much Ale as you can spare." he read off his list to the bartender who hadn't even greeted him yet. "And mixers! Lots of mixers!" he remembered as he leaped up to his seat. The bartender could not help but smile. "How bout I start ya off with some milk first, ya hear." she told the lad, her accent was quite strong. She quickly served the boy a glass of fresh cool milk. "So who got ya runnin' all their errands. family, works, or are ya a slave?" "You got it wrong, lady." he responded after chugging down his glass of milk; leaving a white line above the top of his lip. "This is for my tavern. I needed to stock up before going on my next voyage." "Oh, really?" she responded with a hint of doubt in her voice. "And what is the name of ya lil bar?" She questioned, playing along with what she believed was a lie to talk with girls. "The Undead Tavern!" he spoke proudly. The bartender dropped the bottle of milk in shock. The music and laughs ceased for a moment as people search for the cause. "Your good!" she announced to the customers, as the liveliness picked up again. After cleaning up her mess, she looked directly into the boy's eyes. "You can't be serious?!?!?" "As serious as a Marine Admiral." Alucard said with a pure smile on his face. She still wasn't certain but she could not help but offer her praise. "You guys are like the biggest seagoing tavern in the world? Is it true that it's on top of a giant pig?!?" she had so many questions, but one topped the rest. "What's yer name kid?" "Alucard...Helsing V. Alucard" he told her truthfully, though the name did not generate a response. The two would go on to talk for an hour or so. Drinks were shared and toasts were made. After a while, other men began to grow somewhat jealous of the child who had seemed to have won the heart of the well-liked bartender. And in due time, the bar's largest man walked up to Alucard. "You're in my seat!" he told Alucard, attempting to intimidate him into moving. "Oh..a..m I?" he questioned, his words beginning to slur for the alcohol. "Leave hem alone Dante!" the bartender told the man before Alucard could say anything else. "Oh I do..." Alucard attempted to speak before being cut off by the now enraged man. "So, this is your type?!?!?" he yelled, killing the atmosphere completely as he lifted the boy up by the collar of his button-down shirt. "You into little boys with little wangers?" "Let him go!!!" she demanded, infuriated yet somewhat scarred for Alucard. The man had a long history of starting a fight and beating his competitors to death. "Put him down!" "Okay!" he responded before launching Alucard, head first at the cement wall. Upon clashing with it, Alucard was lifeless. "I can't believe ya did that, you hear!" she yelled, as tears dropped from her eyes. "I'm calling the Marines this time!" she told him, rushing to her . Lifting up the microphone, she waited for an operative to respond. Grabbing her by the wrist, the large fellow attempted to take the snail away from her. But at that moment, an insufferable killing intent emerged in the tavern. The smell of fear quickly arose from everyone's body and not a single person could move. The air grew especially thin, making it even harder to breathe and yet due to their petrified state, they couldn't struggle. The bartender slowly and fearfully gazed her eyes towards the source of the murderous intent, Alucard's body. "Aluc..." she tried to speak, but before she could even finish his name, her head sliced off. "Such pitiful creatures..." While the woman wouldn't be able to finish her call for help, the signal was still picked up by a nearby Marine vessel. The girl manning the Den Den Mushi quickly moved from her position and went in search of her captain. The shock of silver hair wasn't hard to miss, but he stood out mostly because he insisted on standing on the ship's figurehead, which was wrought in the shape of a stag and a lion wrestling for supremacy, with a snake coiled around them "Vice Admiral! There has been a distress signal from a nearby island." "We should be closest to Portriche, right? Was it from the Moisty Tavern?" The girl blinked a few times and nodded. Her captain had an odd habit of making spot-on guesses. It was most likely just deductive reasoning, but that didn't mean it wasn't unnerving "Y-yes. It didn't come through fully, there was a bit of interference and then the call was cut off, but it was from an emergency Den Den Mushi. I think we should check it out." There was a giggle from the marine and he turned around to fix her with a bright smile "I completely agree!" Enfield said joyfully "I have always wanted to visit, but I never had an 'official' reason. If it's something, we'll handle it. If it's nothing, I'll treat the entire crew to a round of drinks! Set course to Portriche!" She nodded and went to go notify their navigator and helmsman as their captain turned back to look at the sea. Enfield perched comfortably on the figurehead, mischief glittering in his crimson eye. He had a sneaking feeling that something was going to happen at the island. Chimeras did not only herald disaster and devastation but keenly could sense them as they loomed. It would be so much fun! A short boat ride later, they dropped anchor at the island and made Enfield made his way towards the tavern in question. While Enfield had never been, one of his men had. It was easy enough to get directions. He took his time reaching the place, even though one could describe the situation as "urgent". Rushing could make him miss something, especially if there were clues in one of the shop windows he passed. He found himself in front of the tavern and briefly entertained the idea of knocking. Manners were important, but he could do away with them sometimes. He pushed the door open wide and stepped in, calling out a melodic "Hello~?" in a bright, sing-song voice. As the Vice-Admiral opened the door, he was greeted by a horrendous sight. Red painted the wall of the room as organs and bones were scattered. The conflicting smell of booze and blood would fuse together generating a smell that would spoil an appetite for days. There was not but one survivor. And yet the torture they received before death would be nothing like the one after; consuming not only their blood but their Qi as well, the souls of the victims would never be allowed to move on to the afterlife. Standing above the corpse, was a blonde boy whose eyes were filled with darkness. Draining the last survivor's remaining energy, Dracula dropped his body as his attention shifted to the new challenger. His murderous intent leaked of his body like sweat off a fat man on a hot day. "More..." he noted, noticing his challenger's powerful soul energy. His intent to kill grew even greater, if that were possible. Anyone who experienced fear in the slightest would fall victim to his phantom grip, causing immediate and undeniable paralysis. Despite noticing the man's coat, which illustrated his high rank within the navy, Dracula expected the man to be completely under his trans. As such, he walked towards him, displaying his fangs. Each step, made him crave for the man's soul with even more. Enfield's eyes widened when he took in what was surely the aftermath of a massacre. It really was a huge mess, and he pitied whoever would have to clean it up. His eyes roved around a bit before landing on the person that caused all of it: a blond boy. Enfield knew looks could be deceiving, as proven by the murderous aura rolling off of the creature in waves. He was washed in it, and it took Enfield a moment to realize what its purpose was. When he did, a smile split his face from ear to ear "Oh...Oh my. Are you trying to inspire fear in me? I'm afraid that that would only work on prey. You'll find I'm anything but." He hummed softly to himself and tapped his cane a few times on the ground, letting the blond approach him without a care in the world. He reached into the satchel at his waist and pulled out two wrapped bundles. He hitched his cane under one arm and unwrapped one, taking a bit out of the little cake and beginning to offer the other to the stalking male "Oh wait, you probably don't eat sweets. You're more of the blood and viscera type, hm? Ah well, more for me." He put the cake away and ate the rest of the first before pinning the other with a curious look "Normally I would give a choice between coming quietly and fighting to the death to criminals, but since you're being rather threatening I think I know what option you would pick. To be completely honest I'm not even sure you're capable of a coherent thought. You seem absolutely feral...wait I'm rambling. Anywho, shall we fight?" Standing within a meter of the Vice-Admiral, Dracula didn't need to gaze upwards as per usual. "How...impertinent..." he struggled to say as his consciousness hanged in the balance; being overtaken by the empowerment of the blood and soul energy. His killing intent could be felt by those who weren't even within his vicinity. Taverns and other markets nearby would also feel the dark heavy emotion that is his wrath. Yet as he gazed at his enemy, his face went without expression. Suddenly his head dropped as if he had fallen asleep. Those who were held hostage were spontaneously released; they began to rush away from the city as quickly as possible. The smell of booze... At that moment, Alucard raised his head, his face still remaining expressionless, yet his green eyes filled with tears. "Sor-" In an instant, like a flick of the switch, his eyes and heart were filled darkness again. Despite only being in his hybrid state, his movements were monstrously fast. At blinding speed, his right fist targetted the Vice-Admiral's gut. The force alone would be enough to execute most, surpassing the mighty strength of a giant. Yet the concentration of force focused into his small fist made it even more lethal. Due to the magnitude of his punch, wind gathered along with it, and as result, if the Vice-Admiral did not absorb the all the force himself, the stores and the remaining people within them would be completely destroyed, only to leaving a gaping hole of dirt in their place. Enfield picked up on a few things, some of which were confusing. The first was how the other struggled to string together even two words, giving truth to his assumption that his mind was more beast than man at the moment. The aura was thick around him, gave the air a taste that was not unlike the metallic tang of freshly spilled blood. The second was the fact that he seemed to...change for a moment. His head drooped and his aura faded for a fraction of a moment as he went idle, enough time for the people around them to begin evacuation. And then when he looked up, his eyes were different and remorseful, an apology on his lips. But just as fast as the beast was gone he was back, and any notion of Enfield showing mercy fled from his mind. This thing wouldn't stop unless he was forced to. The attack wasn't exactly a surprise to Enfield, but the speed of it caught him off-guard. A lesser man wouldn't have been able to match the power and speed behind the blow, but then again the Marines aren't in the habit of making lesser men Vice Admirals. Enfield's Kenbunshoku Haki was the more refined of the two, and it alerted him to the danger to his person. It gave him an accurate measurement of the power behind it in a fraction of a second and Enfield reacted, his arm moving to block the blow with his palm. His muscles tensed in a well-timed use of , meeting the blow with a similar amount of power in order to neutralize a great deal of its potential for collateral damage. The shockwave that occurred as fist met palm whipped the marine's clothes and hair about as though he were caught in a gale, it threw furniture across the room and created cracks in the walls. His palm stung a little, letting him know his maneuver wasn't perfect in negating all the force behind the blow, but he wasn't hurt all too bad. His smile brightened even more, bordering on maniacal, as he spoke to the boy "I didn't even feel that. Are you even trying?" As their hands connected, Dracula wasted no time following up. His fist quickly switched to an open palm, where Dracula's tiny fingers slipped in between the Vice-Admiral's own to hold him in place. In order to make sure he didn't lose his grip, his nails transformed into claws and attempted to dig into his opponent's skin. All the while this was happening, Dracula withdrew his from the satchel along his back with his free hand. The sword had a rather unique design. It was slightly curved with five holes along the middle of the sharp blade, and five half-moon holes along the other side of the blade. Immediately as he withdrew his blade, instead of maintaining the usual Forward Sword Grip: Hammer, he alternated to a Reverse Sword Grip: Edge-in. With this change in sword-grip, his attack would switch from a slashing style to stabbing style. While this tactic may not be ideal for the situation as his opponent had hardened his body to the point where he could endure a direct punch from his hybrid state, Dracula did not seem to care. While most likely going unnoticed due to the rate at which these events were transpiring and being such a minor detail, but from his bicep to his forearm, his cephalic vein became even more pronounced. While this could simply be due to the firm grip of his blade, there might be more to it. An increase in strength perhaps? As he digests the blood of the human's more power surges into him every moment. With this augmented strength and his blade coated in , though not Koka, he aimed towards the man's chest, the most formidable area of his defense. Enfield laced his fingers with the other male's and allowed the muscles in his arm to harden, the limb turning a light steel gray from his elbow to the tips of his fingers in the process. It wasn't Haki, but rather a use of Tekkai that made his limbs as rigid and durable as the finest steel. This served not only to defend his flesh from the claws the blond tried to dig in, but also to lock them together in a strange form of embrace. Even those with monstrous levels of strength would find it hard to pry their arm free without breaking their fingers in the process. This wasn't the only change occurring within the male's body, however. His one visible eye turned to that of a snake's, barely noticeable silver-hued scales lined his cheeks and a forked tongue flicked across his lips, signaling his transfer into one of his hybrid states. As the blade came, Enfield's body bent around it like a snake coiling away from danger or around their prey. If the male had ever faced someone who was learned in the ways of Rokushiki, he would be able to draw the parallels between what Enfield was doing now and the technique Kami-e. Even plainer still would be the fact that Enfield was a master of Rokushiki, as he was able to seamlessly perform two different techniques of the style simultaneously, and without any apparent strain on his body. The silver-haired male gave a giggle that came out more like a hiss and tutted slowly "You're asss plain asss a book when you're doing....whatever it is you're doing right now. That'sss what, two attack attemptsss?" He made a look as though he were seriously counting the other's assaults in his head before snapping back to his foe "Yup, two! I am a firm believer in the three ssstrike rule, so I'll give you one more go before it'sss my turn!" He gave another one of his wide smiles, this time displaying pearly white fangs that were like small daggers in his mouth. Despite his deranged outlook, Dracula's instincts were sharp. In battle, arrogance was the closest thing to carelessness. While it was true the Vice-Admiral had been rather a successful job of dodging the former two attacks. The current one would be different. As Enfield maneuvered his torso out the way of Dracula's blade, part of his body remained stagnant: his arm. Carelessness. Currently caught in a stalemate between with Dracula's own arm, this was an opportunity, one that even the most simple-minded of creatures could recognize. But rather than leaving such a fruitful opportunity to chance, Dracula would cease it. Unlike most , in which there is an eye grasping announcement that alarms every one of the transform, Dracula's complete transformation is far more subtle. As such, the sudden exponential increase in speed and strength would come as a shock, even towards those who have mastered Kenbunshoku Haki. Unlike his hybrid state, which only grants vampiric qualities to his human state. His complete transformation, on the other hand, makes him truly part of the undead. Rather than being allowed to move through muscles bones ligaments and all the usual aspects of a human, similar to , he's empowered by his dark soul. Opening the gates to his surplus of "soul energy", due to the thousands of people's souls he's consumed, as the battle progresses, physical prowess will only heighten. With augmenting speed and strength, Dracula's blade would come down at a speed that would give his opponent very little time to dodge. But the attack would not stop at just with his blade coming down for a stab with supernatural force. With his right hand, the nails in which struggled to pierce through his marine's metallic skin grew sharper and more durable due to the transformation. But similar to his blade, strengthened his nails even further, as such, allowing his nails to begin to sink into the skin of Enfield which would prevent him from moving. With nowhere to run, Dracula's shortsword aimed directly towards his elbow hoping to summon a humongous hole in his arm. Enfield could be described as many things, childish and crazy being among the top two, but he wasn't a fool. This should be obvious due to the fact that he had been granted a high station in the Marines, but he did his best to try and assert the opposite. He was actually a very skilled tactician, with a penchant for subtly leading his foes to take the actions he wanted them to take. He employed this perfectly, drawing attention to his arm and making it appear as though it were a weak spot in his otherwise impeccable defenses. But this couldn't be any farther from the truth. What kind of Vice Admiral would he be if he let such an attack land without contest? As the male's grip changed, so did the entirety of Enfield's arm. The steel gray deepened to a dark, almost light-absorbing black, denoting the activation of his Haki. Small sparks of black lightning rippled around where claws and blade met the hardened flesh of his arm, ripples of pure power radiating outwards and creating even larger fissures along the floor and walls. A battle of Haki was always a sight to behold, but when two wills as strong as these clashed it was always something to marvel at. And fear. Enfield's smile stayed plastered firmly in place as he hissed dangerously at the other male "That'sss three. Let'sss sssee if I can make thisss interesssting!" A hissing giggle was all that was heard from him before he blurred into movement, initiating his first attack since the beginning of the altercation. Enfield drawing focus to his arm and attempting to lead the blond to target the limb specifically held an important purpose to the silverette's strategy: to take attention away from his other arm. Because the other was attempting to use Enfield's arm to lock him in place, he had done the exact same to himself, opening up Enfield to attack but becoming a sitting duck as well. All the Vice Admiral would need to do was exploit the opening he helped create, and that was something he definitely could do. His limb struck out at blinding speeds, much akin to a viper that had been coiled in preparation for an assault. Blow itself was backed with an immense amount of force, so much that it would be able to fracture bones on its own, but the real danger lay in the position of Enfield's fingers. They were curved in a fashion rather reminiscent of a claw, with his nails having elongated and sharpened ever so slightly. The very tips of his fingers were blackened much like his arm, signaling his use of Busoshoku to empower the blow. The attack was aimed at the blond's ribcage, but rather than thrusting his claws into the other, five of displaced air-launched forward from his hand, empowered by the Vice Admiral's Haki and aiming to pierce his opponent's lungs and heart. The technique Enfield employed was dangerous all its own, but with the added piercing capability granted by his sharpened nails and the empowerment of his will, they would be able to pierce through several layers of solid metal like a hot poker through butter. Despite maintaining his crazed look on his face, the effects of consuming an excessive amount of blood began to ware. While not showing it, he was surprised the marine was able to endure such an attack. "More...power...?" he thought, as the ripples of power scattered in throughout the room. The battle had only just begun and the destructive power of their might had already taken its toll on the scene. Rather than entertaining his inferior with a witty retort, Dracula simply continued on with the battle. Instead of persisting on with his initial slash, Dracula withdrew his blade from against Enfield's arm and adjusted. Maintaining his current handle on the blade, Dracula aimed his weapon from the marine's left deltoid and hoped to slash down horizontally across his chest. Though, something was different compared to the last attack. Unlike before, which involved sheer power and speed, the vampire's movement appeared more precise and controlled. Lacking any unnecessary movement, the attack was a different caliber due to this. All the while, his strength, speed, and all other physical capabilities continued to rise. To the most skilled of combatants, these adjustments were like light switches; easily noticeable. However, something less obvious had also changed. While visually, there's be no difference in the coating of his blade, internally, a major shift had occurred. Of all three haki, Dracula specializes in Busoshoku Haki. For decades, he has honed his skill to a degree that has allowed him to fight among the world's most fearsome tier of fighters. During this time, Dracula inevitably discovered a form of armor that surpasses the usual Koka. Seen a few times throughout history— the first being when Charlotte Katakuri fought against Monkey D. Luffy, it's power rarely achievable. Dracula refers to this defense as Busoshoku: Bōei. With it, he hoped to break through Marine's attack an deal the first significant blow. It was quite obvious that Dracula had paid little attention to Enfield's own attack; his attention was completely focused on his own attack. As such, the Vice-Admiral's fingers managed to reach only inches away from Dracula's physique. If it were not for his darkness the attack would've successfully landed. A testament to Dracula's return consciousness, the ability to manipulate his "soul energy" or what he refers to as the darkness that dwells within him began to show. Just as users of the utilize their respective soul energy to leave the corpse and attach limbs, Dracula's capable of releasing his energy and weaponizing it. From his left side, darkness emerged in the shape of a hand and latched onto Enfield's wrist in order to successfully halt his assault. Now, having a hold of both of the Marine's arms, avoiding the attack would be even more a challenge than before. The swing of his blade held such precision yet strength that the area behind the marine.